


Give Me Tonight

by Peekaboodesu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Public Hand Jobs, Recreational Drug Use, Running Amok through the streets at night, Smut, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-23 04:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peekaboodesu/pseuds/Peekaboodesu
Summary: Work sucks! Sucks so much it’s destroying Lance’s relationship. After years together Keith is ready to say goodbye.Lance has one chance to make him stay.  Less than twelve hours to remind Keith just why they fell in love in the first place.Can one wild night convince him to stay?





	Give Me Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my marvelous friend and beta Chromehoplite. You’ve been a tremendous source of help and support!

***

Give me tonight  
Then if you don't wanna stay  
I'll just forget you

You'll see I'm right  
You won't get to go away  
Love ain't gonna let you

***

“I’m going to Shiro's for a while,” Keith says from atop his bike as Lance walks by. It startles him, pulling him from his lethargy. He hadn’t even noticed his boyfriend there, too lost in his own thoughts. It’d been another long day of his boss breathing down his neck while trying to get through a mountain of work, and he’s just now getting home. To top it all off, he’s drenched having been caught in the downpour just after hopping off the train.

“Cool, what time are you coming back, I’ll order us take out,” he says trudging up the steps to their apartment building, thinking only of dry clothes, hot food, and putting the stress of the day behind him.

“I’m not coming back, this isn’t working. I’m leaving.” The “you” that ends that sentence hangs in the air, unsaid.

He releases his grip on the door handle, whirling round, and practically throws himself down the stairs to get to Keith. “What are you talking about?” His eyes roam over the other man. How long had he been sitting here? He’s not soaked like Lance is, but water beads on his dark leather jacket. His black hair is damp with dew though, so not too long then, it’d only stopped raining just a few moments ago.

Keith sighs, worrying the strap of his helmet where it’s propped in his lap. “Us… this isn’t working anymore.” He gestures between the two of them, “We barely speak, and when we do, it’s usually in passing.”

“That’s not true,” Lance argues, “and you were what... just going to disappear?” He crosses his arms partly from indignation, partly to protect himself against the chill of the night air. 

“Not true? Lance you literally just walked by me with barely a glance in my direction. It’s the first time I’ve seen you in two… when was the last we were-” There so many things he could point out. They never talk anymore, never do anything together. Lance is rarely home, god, he can’t even remember the last time they touched. “You can’t be happy.” 

“Keith that’s not fair!” He spreads his arms out, “Look at me, I’m wet, I’ve been working all day, I’m exhausted. Can we just go inside?”

He does look: Lance with his hair sticking to his face, soggy clothes clinging to him, but what really stands out are the dark circles around his baby blue eyes. He looks weary and defeated. It pulls at Keith’s heart. It makes it that much harder when he says, “ _I’m_ not happy Lance. _I_ can’t keep doing this.”

He can’t exactly pinpoint when he started to feel this way; it began with tiny little things that just coalesced into bigger problems. It used to be easy to pretend nothing was wrong, but it’s gotten harder to ignore the huge rift between them.

It hadn’t always been like that.

***

_Lance used to laugh at everything. Obnoxiously so. It was annoying but it was also endearing. He was so full of life and vitality. He had a ton of friends. People gravitated to him because of his charm and charisma._

_Keith included._

_“Can I ask a stupid question?” Lance is laid out with his head on Keith’s stomach, one hand plucking grass from the earth and letting the blades lay where the fall. It’s a warm night and they’re stretched out in an old farmer’s field on the edge of town. They come here to stargaze and get away from the prying eyes of everyone in their ridiculously small-minded town._

_They had officially started dating the summer before senior year and only their closest and most trusted friends knew that they were an item._

_“You usually do,” Keith deadpans as he runs his fingernails through Lance’s chestnut hair. The short silky strands cascade as they fall back into place._

_Lance squawks in offense, sitting up, “Well, never mind then!” He moves to stand but Keith snatches him by the arm, pulling him back. It takes him off balance and he lands with a soft thud. He can’t help but smile at Lance’s over-the-top pouting, arms crossed and bottom lip out._

_“Aww don’t be that way, what’s your question?” Keith teases bringing his hand back to his boyfriend’s hair, only to have it smacked away.  
He sits, forcing them both up. “Hey, seriously what’s up?”_

_Lance sighs, “Were you thinking of going to the Homecoming Dance?”_

_He can’t help it, Keith laughs out loud, a harsh barking sound that cause Lance to flinch. “No, definitely not! Why wou-” he pauses, taking in the other boy’s demeanor. The look of vulnerability and insecurity so out of place on his usually carefree face._

_“What I meant was... do you want to go-” he shrugs, trying to act like it’s the most casual thing to ask. Like it’s not full of implications of outing them both, and in front the entire school no less. “You know... like with me?” Even still, Lance braces himself from the inevitable rejection._

_It doesn’t come. How could he say no?_

_“Of course I’ll go with you.”_

_The smile Lance flashes him shines brighter than the moon and all the stars in the night sky. And he knows he will never regret his decision._

_When Lance kisses him, it’s full of excitement. His lips are slightly chapped where they meet his own. They press against his mouth with a little too much pressure, and linger there threatening to break into a smile. Happiness that he can’t contain. The kiss is messy, and broken by laughter. It’s not their first and it’s definitely not their best, but it is the one Keith rememberers most vividly, every minute detail._

***

Hearing Keith’s admission crushes something inside Lance, because he knows things between them had been changing and not for the better. The spark may have died out some in their relationship. Wasn’t that just an eventuality? Infatuation dulls into comfort. Things might be a little stagnant, but there was still love there. Right? He loves Keith…more than anything. Always has. Sure, things have been tense. He blames that on his exhaustion and work related stress. He knows they are in a rut physically and emotionally, but he hadn’t realized how much it had affected their relationship, how much it had affected Keith.

“I...Keith, I’m sorry. I-“ He stumbles over his words, at a loss for what to say. Keith has always been quick to temper. Acting out rash decisions, rushing forth without thinking things through. “Please don’t leave… I love you.” God, he hopes that’s what this is. He doesn’t want to lose the most important thing in his life. “And I know you love me too.”

***

_It had been their plan to move to the city together. It took a little longer than expected, and they had to do the long distance thing for a bit; but here they are: Moving Day. It's exciting and fun and well a lot of walking up and down stairs; they make up for it with beer and pizza, and best of all… friends to help._

_“Christ, this box is heavy,” Hunk grunts out as he lifts said box onto an empty chair in the middle of the floor before slicing it open. “Uh Keith buddy... why are you packing boxes in other boxes?” He lifts a smaller box out of a larger one. It’s twice the size of a shoe box and wrapped in duct tape several times with ‘Keith’s Stuff’ scrawled in sharpie on the side. “You know you're moving… not wrapping gag gifts… right?”_

_“What are you talking about?” Keith asks looking from the pass through of the kitchen. “Oh, uh don’t open that!” He rushes out and snatches the box from the larger man's hands._

_Pidge snorts and stage whispers from behind the T.V. stand, “Looks like you found their porn stash, Hunk.”_

_“It’s not porn,” Keith grumbles as he heads back into the kitchen taking his mystery box with him._

_“Fine, sex toys… whatever!” Pidge rolls her eyes and goes back to her job of hooking up all their electronic devices to the television._

_“It’s not sex toys!” Keith barks out. Whatever it is, it has him flushing in embarrassment._

_It makes them all curious._

_Lance knows it’s not sex toy he’s already put that box in the back of the closet, so he and Keith can unpack them when they're alone._

_“Then what’s in the box?” Hunk asks. Digging around in what looks to be books and stuff for an office._

_Pidge leans out again and in her best Brad Pitt voice yells, “What’s in the Boooox!?!”_

_“Yeah babe, what’s more embarrassing than sex toys?” Lance is more than a little intrigued; it’s not often Keith gets flustered, and his petulant pout is incredibly adorable._

_“It’s nothing ok,” he sighs. “Just leave it be.” The look he gives Lance is one of pleading. It sends Lance’s curiously through the roof, and he moves around the wall dividing the kitchen from the living area._

_“Aw babe, just tell us.” He smirks as he closes in on Kieth._

_“Fine! It’s porn!” He snaps, snatching the box up and making a break for their bedroom._

_Lance grins deviously; must be something really good if he’d rather people think it was porn._

_“Agh shit!” Pidge hollers jumping back as sparks fly. Smoke is rising up from the outlet on the wall just before all the power blinks off, effectively ending any conversation about what big secret Keith is hiding._

_It’s not until later after Pidge and Hunk have left for the evening that Lance is reminded of the his boyfriends big secret. He and Keith are readying themselves for their first night in their first apartment together when Lance notices the box again. It sits unassumingly on their dresser._

_Sitting on the bed with the freshly procured item in his lap, he calls to where Keith is in the bathroom. “Hey babe?”_

_“Yeah?” Keith answers turning the light off before exiting the bathroom. He pauses when he sees Lance with the box and leans against the door frame. “It’s stupid.”_

_“Can I open it?” Blue eyes shining like a kid on Christmas._

_He sighs and pushes off the wall heading to the nightstand on his side of the bed. He picks up a pocket knife and sits next to Lance._

_He hands the knife off watching as his boyfriend digs into the tape freeing the flaps and peering inside. The look of confusion washes over his face before melting into something much softer._

_“You kept all this?” His voice is barely above whispers. Picking through its contents is like walking through a memory. Hundreds of them. Inside is every love note, every message passed back a forth. Every letter Lance ever sent while he was away at university, and Keith was stuck in community college. Every movie stub, concert ticket, carnival prize and dozens upon dozens of photos Keith had taken of him. Of them together. Their entire relationship in a box._

_“Yes of course.” Like it was the most obviously thing in the world._

***

“I _do_ love you Lance,” he huffs running his fingers through his hair, “but I’m not sure if it’s enough anymore.”

How can that not be enough? They are Keith and Lance. They belong together. Lance feels doubt curl in on him as Keith continues.

“It breaks my heart to watch you go through your life on autopilot. You don’t smile anymore, you don’t laugh. Do you even remember what fun is? And we barely coexist. It’s like lying next to a stranger but worse because you're more like a ghost. Just a memory of who you were.”

When was the last time he did something remotely fun? The last time he and Keith went out? The last time he hung out with Hunk or Pidge? The last time he did anything but fall into bed? He misses all of that, but life has a way of making you prioritize and compartmentalize. Fundamentally he’s still the same guy; Lance, life of the party. Right?

“Don’t leave!” Lance blurts out anxiously wringing his hands. “We’ll go out, we’ll have fun. And in the morning if you still want to, then I won’t stop you.” It’s a lie of course he’s never going to let Keith just walk away, he cares too much; he’ll beg if he has to. For now, he's trying hard not to unravel. “You have to let me show you!”

He has a hard time keeping the exasperation out of his voice. “Show me what Lance?” He crosses his arms. “You’ve been working all day, you look wrecked, you should just go inside.”

“Show you why you should stay naturally.” He tries to muster up as much false bravado as he can. “Look, I know I let work supersede everything else, and I hate it and it makes things so tense, but nothing means more to me than you.” Reaching out, he grabs Keith’s wrist pulling it from where it presses against his chest and runs his fingers of the dark haired man’s knuckles. “Will you give me tonight?”

Slowly, Keith relaxes, accepting his defeat. He feels himself give into Lance in a way that is stupidly familiar. He’s always been soft for this man. “You have ten hours, don’t waste them.”

“Perfect! Let me change.” He takes off without hesitation, running back up the stairs to the apartment. He spins around to call out something flirtatious maybe, but instantly it’s wiped from his memory.

His eyes fall on Keith who hasn’t moved. He sits there under the halo of orange thrown off by the street lamp. The neon signs that bring the city to life, catching and reflecting off his jacket, the chrome of his motorcycle, all absorbed by the wet street below in hues of violets and blues. So much like the color of his eyes. He blends so well with the surroundings. Beautiful as ever in the urban environment. Radiating out like electric light.

He doesn’t have a sudden epiphany about how much he loves Keith. No, he already knew that. He isn’t mesmerized by how breathtaking he is. He’s long been used to that. What he does realize is, he never wants to be without him. He will do whatever it takes to keep him. It’s an oath he makes to himself. To never let go.

***

From outside the thunderous sounds of the night club are muffled and distant, but inside the music pounds a booming staccato. He can feel it overtaking the heartbeat in his chest.

An organic haze hangs over the expanse, highlighted by artificial light. It curls around the warm bodies all pressed together like an undulating wave. It mixes with their movement giving it a life of its own, fluorescent flashes in time with the beat, in pinks, greens and ultraviolet.

“Why are we here?” Keith has to yell over the music. He isn’t opposed to the venue, but he is more than a little surprised that Lance would choose something so loud.

“I want to dance with you.” He jerks his head over to the bar. “But first, let's get a drink.”

That’s not exactly what he meant, but he lets Lance guide him to the bar. It’s a squeeze trying to work through the crowd. The place is packed and wild.

At the bar, Lance catches the attention of the blonde behind it, throwing two fingers up. She nods, and comes back with two beers. He hands one off to Keith, but leans over to whisper into the bartender’s ear.

She pulls back eyeing Lance warily before nodding and calling the other bartender over. Keith's fingers smooth over the long neck of his beer collecting condensation as he up ends it. He watches as Lance greets the male behind the bar with a half hug.

“Rolo, how’s it hanging?” 

“Good bro. I was surprised to hear from you. I got what you were asking for.”

Lance slaps hands with the other man. A discreet trade off. ”Thanks man I owe you.”

“Nah. It’s on me, have fun tonight,” Rolo says banging on the bar twice before heading back to the other end.

“What was that about?” Keith hadn’t realized his boyfriend was familiar with anyone here. “Who was that?

“That’s Rolo, he works in the mailroom at my office. He bartends here a few nights a week.” He raises his clasped hand opening it for Keith. In his palm are two tiny white pills. “He knows people.”

He flashes a devious smile. It’s one Keith hasn’t seen in a while, one he’s sorely missed. “Roll with me.”

An hour later and he’s feeling like a champion, every nerve ending is like a live wire. The beat of the music, the neon lights, the rocking movement, they all have him hypnotized. The air is humid and heady. It makes him hot. 

He can feel the sweat beading on his skin, dampening his shirt, but it’s the heat at his back that has him on fire. Long fingers dig into his hips guiding him as they move with the rhythm, matching the tempo.

His heart is in tune with the thumping bass. At least until Lance presses his lips to the back of his neck, then it starts to beat at a furious pace. He thinks he could die like this; and that would be alright.

There is a bit of a manic edge to Lance’s euphoria. Under all that dopamine is the knowledge that at any moment Keith could be gone. It forces him to press closer, to let his hands linger. To trail his fingers over sharp hip bones.To kiss the moisture that collects just behind his ear. 

Everything about Keith is perfect. The way he smells, like sandalwood and spice. They way he tastes. Christ, the way he feels. The sensation of Keith’s skin under his hands is like satin. Dewy and smooth. The needs to feel more of it, is chaotic in his brain. It has him peeling Keith’s shirt off, right there in the middle of the dance floor.

It goes unnoticed in the sea of flesh around them, just as they have no interest in anything beyond themselves. Lost to the drugs, music and lights, bodies are moving in sync, always touching, always feeling. 

Keith turns in Lance's arms. His hands sliding to the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair at his nape. It’s blissful for both of them in their state of sensory overload. He smiles at the deep hum that comes from the other male as his eyes fall shut. Lance is most beautiful when he’s happy. And when he opens them again they lock with Keith’s. Baby blue on indigo. They sway slowly back and forth separate from the music, entranced. 

The moment is shattered when Lance leans forward and runs his tongue along Keith’s jaw up to his cheek. It leaves his mouth gaping, and he can’t help but laugh at the look of bewilderment that takes over his face. Keith is there in the middle of the club in dark jeans and boots, shirtless with biker gloves on his hands, high and completely confused. His laughter rocks him, it’s been a long time since he was completely worry free and he relishes the moment in all its ridiculousness. His joy spreads out and then they are both laughing and jumping to the beat of the music.

They spend hours this way, but it feels like minutes. All too soon, the heat and need for a drink catches up with them. Nothing like MDMA and dancing to make you thirsty, Lance thinks with a smirk as he follows Keith to the bar eyes locked on to his ass. There is a commotion to his right but it can’t pull his attention away from the guy ahead of him, their fingers intertwined as he’s being led forward. At least until they aren’t.

Someone slams into him like a ton of bricks, knocking him off balance. He should have been paying attention.

It’s two guys on one, he thinks, can’t be too sure though because he’s right in the middle of it. Being pulled into the fray so abruptly he never sees the hit coming, just feels the impact as someone’s fist rocks into his mouth. He isn’t prepared for it, so it knocks him on his ass. The pain in his lip is sharp and he is pretty sure it's split. His head is swimming and his ears are ringing. Fuck that hurt.

He doesn’t have time to think about it, because some big dude is on him, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt, fist reeled back. Lance braces for the impact, squeezing his eyes shut. It never comes. Instead he feels himself jerked free.

He opens one eye in time to see Keith, hot-headed-easy-to-rage Keith launching himself at his attacker. They both go tumbling into the crowd, and instantly it’s a brawl in the middle of the club. There are guys fighting on his right, the ones who originally knocked into him, on his left, where Keith is and now three others are going at it, fists flying. The chaos is spreading through the club as the fight moves. It’s madness but he can’t let Keith have all the fun; so he flings himself into the free for all.

***

Twenty minutes later they are outside on the curb disheveled and out of breath. Lance has a busted lip and come tomorrow, he’ll have more than a few bruises. Keith on the other hand is none the worse for wear, other that a couple of cuts on his knuckles and his hair being a mess; but what else is new?

He can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up. A mixture of drugs, adrenaline, and anxiety. How ridiculous this night is. He loves the wildness of it. Doesn’t want it to end and doesn’t want to face the consequences the morning will bring. He grabs Keith by the hand and pulls him to his feet. 

“C’mon on samurai.” He crashes his lips to his boyfriend's cheek, whispering, “Catch me if you can.” Then he’s off peeling down the almost empty street.

It leaves the other man bewildered. It takes him a full twenty seconds before he recognizes the game they are playing and then he's trailing after his other half. It’s so carefree, this side of Lance. A side he’s watch slowly fade away, a real fear that he may never see it again. It pulls him, like a magnet, leaves him craving more. 

They dash back and forth through the streets of the metropolis, chasing each other like children in the night, weaving in and out of parked cars, making use of their urban environment, keeping lamp posts, fire hydrants, and newspaper machines between them. Laughter and shrieking and calls of ‘you’re it’ echo all around them. Horns from drivers blare at them as they dive out into traffic in their mad game of tag, too lost in the moment to trifle the danger.

It all comes to a head when Keith disappears around a corner. By time Lance catches up to where he is… was… he’s gone again. Lance smirks, looks like they have switched to hide and go seek.

“Keiiith,” he calls out teasingly, “come out, come out, wherever you are.” That never works, but hey, it adds to the intrigue. Up ahead, he sees a newspaper stand all closed up for the night. He tsks, and thinks to himself _‘not good enough babe’_ as he creeps forward.

“I’ve got you now,” he shouts as he rounds the side of the small structure; but he doesn’t. Nothing's there but a couple of stacks of old magazines. Tricky, tricky.

“Olly olly oxen free!” He calls out again and somewhere in the distance a dog starts barking, but no word from the other man. He checks behind a few cars and a darkened vestibule of an old brown stone turned corner store. Again, he finds nothing. At this rate, he’ll be here all night, so he tries again.

“Marco!” He waits for a few seconds, without a response and is just about give up and tap out when from much further up the block come a faint ‘Polo’. God, that sneaky fucker is fast.  
He rushes toward the lingering sound, calling out once more.

“Marco!”

“Polo!” 

So much closer now.

“Marco!”

“Would you shut the fuck up?!” A shout from across the street. He spins around in time to see a disgruntled woman flip him off before slamming her window closed and pulling the curtains. The nerve! He opens his mouth to fire back, but jumps and yelps when hands close over his eyes. Warmth envelopes him as a hard body presses in.

“Polo.” It's whispered into his ear and punctuated with a kiss just behind. 

He turns, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waists pulling him closer. “Tag,” he whispers against lips, “you’re it.”

***

“Are you sure we should be up here?” Keith asks warily as he follows Lance through the heavy door to the roof.

“Probably not, but what are they gonna do? Fire me?” He shrugs nonchalantly, “This place would implode without me. I basically run things.”

Keith knows better, a major company like this would thrive with or without his other half. He is just one cog in the machine. One worn down, over used lowly part. Keith hates Lance’s job.  
“Sure you do.” Sarcasm laces his words. 

“Seriously, I do. Just don’t let that door clos-“ But with a low click, it’s too late. “Fuck.”

“What’s fuck? What does that mean?” Keith freezes in place as Lance turns back in on him.

“It means we’re locked up here.” Lance sighs, but shows no further indication that anything is truly amiss.

Keith, however, panics “Lance what the fuck?!” Reaching for the handle he yanks at the door fruitlessly. He tries a second time with similar results. It won’t budge and just as he's about to kick it, arms wrap around his middle.

“Hey, don’t worry. All the doors unlock automatically when the building manager keys in, in the morning,” he explains, reassuringly tugging Keith away from the door. “We just have to wait until 6:00 a.m.”

“That’s in like four hours, Lance!” The dark haired male gripes as he’s led out into the open air of the skyscraper’s upper most point.

“Just enough time to enjoy the view,” he says, pulling Keith around to face the glowing city that surrounds them. It’s dazzling. It sparkles so much like... the stars above them. 

He has to do a double take, his head snapping back as he stares up.

He never gets to see stars anymore, replace by the artificial twinkle of hundreds of thousands of lights, they shine so bright, it cancels the cosmic glow out. 

From the ground, the stars are non existent, but from up here, hundreds of feet in the air, away from the brightest of lights, they flourish, seemingly so close he could reach up and pluck one from the sky. It’s stunning, really. When they were younger, they would spend hours just staring at the night sky. Those nights were lasting, memories he treasures, but thought were long gone. He truly misses those easier times.

Lost in the infinity of the cosmos, it takes Lance clearing his throat to bring him back down to earth.

“So beautiful,” he remarks, barely above a whisper.

“Incredibly so,” Lance agrees with him, but his eyes aren’t on the stars, and Keith knows that only _he_ is talking about the view.

He can see it in the way Lance’s lip curls in at the corner. The way blue eyes roam over his face before falling to his mouth. He hasn’t moved a muscle but something about his comportment has taken on a predatory nature. 

It causes the blood in his veins to turn to liquid fire and his heart to fall into his stomach. He can’t remember the last time Lance looked at him like that. How long has it been since he’s seen this side of his boyfriend? He’s missed it. The whole night has been reminiscent of a time before things went bad.

***

_Keith is eating dinner alone. It’s the fourth time this week. Probably the fourteenth or fifteenth time this month. Not that he’s counting. He's become pretty accustomed to Lance coming home late, often after he himself has long since gone to bed._

_And of course, when Keith wakes up it was usually alone too. Not that this is new, it’s always been the way. He’s just lucky to have job that’s closer to home, unlike Lance who commutes to the other side of the city. It doesn’t make it any less irritating that he never gets to see his boyfriend anymore._

_He sighs, and stabs his chopsticks into a container of lo mein before letting it fall on the coffee table. He’s sick of take out._

_Sick of being lonely._

_Their relationship has changed drastically ever since Lance took this new position almost eight months ago, and not for the better._

_At first, he was supportive and proud of his other half. It was a great opportunity and a really smart career move. And when the long days began, he tried to help in anyway he could. He played the dutiful wife, less cliche and more ironically._

_He picked up Lance’s slack, covering his chores, doing the shopping, making sure they had clean laundry. He even cooked dinners, so that the other man could have a hot meal when he came home. Except they were rarely ever hot by the time he got to them._

_It wasn’t just him being gone so much that was different. It was also that Lance was changing. Stress dogged him. He was exhausted and anxious. The drive that he once had, had faded into apathy, and not just about work; it bled into everything._

_It was messing with his friendships._

_His voice raises in frustration, “Do you even know what today was?” God he sounds pathetic, like a neglected housewife._

_Lance tries to think hard, he does but it’s been a long day, and he’s just drawing a blank. Keith’s birthday is in October and their Anniversary (not something they usually celebrate anyway) is in the middle of summer. Fuck, he’s exhausted and he doesn’t want to do this. “Why don’t you just tell me Keith,” he snaps dragging his hands through his hair, “you know I don’t know, so remind me what it is, that way we can both be in on how goddamn awful I am!”_

_He regrets it immediately, but the damage is done._

_Keith snatches his keys off the console by the door and makes to leave. He pauses at the threshold, looking back over his shoulder. “Hunk’s grand opening was today, he’s been your best friend for nearly twenty years, and you weren’t there.”_

_And with that, he’s gone._

_It wasn't their first fight by any means, and it definitely wouldn't be their last._

_Lance’s family was also feeling some of the neglect. He had also forgotten to request time off for his little sister’s Quinceanera, and by the time he remembered, it was too late to do anything about it._

_The mistake was only remedied by the fact that Keith had taken it upon himself to buy her several pricey gifts from the both of them and promised her an open invitation to spend the weekend with them in the city._

_Of course, any clemency this bought Lance was quickly snatched away when she took Keith up on his offer. The weekend she decided to stay, Lance was told on that Friday he would be needed to work, leaving her and Keith alone for the majority of her trip. He had done everything he could to make her visit enjoyable, but what she had really wanted was to spend time with her brother._

_Her trip ended with Lance whispering ‘Los Sientos’ to another slammed door._

_His mother called to ream him out, when the girl returned home upset, but surprise, surprise, he wasn’t there to take the call._

_His health was impacted both physically and mentally._

_Around the fifth month mark, he had began to lose weight, nothing to substantial, but enough that his pants were sitting lower on his hips. His eyes lost their shine and more often than not, were rimmed by dark circles. He wasn’t taking care of himself like he should.Heis skin care routine that he was normally so fanatical about, had fallen way to make room for extra sleep._

_Not that it took away from his appearance, he was beautiful naturally so, but his gorgeous bronzed skin seemed sallow under all the weight of his exhaustion. Lance from before would have been appalled._

_The fact that he didn’t care was a statement on the immense toll the stress had taken on his frame of mind. He began closing in on himself, in a constant state of discontent, apt to isolate himself from everything and everyone._

_“Come on, it will be fun,” Keith whines tugging at Lance, trying to pull him from his spot on the couch. “Pidge will be there.”_

_“Babe, I’m tired,” Lance drawls trying to drag Keith down instead. “Can’t we just stay in and watch a movie?”_

_He allows himself to be pulled into his boyfriend's lap, but he doesn’t give up the fight. “We always stay in, I’m bored, I wanna go out.” He pouts crossing his arms, bottom lip on full display. Hoping that being cute will help his cause._

_It doesn’t._

_“Keith, I work all the time,” he sighs, shoulders falling under the weight of his fatigue, “all I want to do is relax... just go without me.”_

_So he does._

_All of that Keith could deal with, he didn’t like any of it, but he loved Lance so he could weather it. What he couldn’t stand was the recurring rebuffs, the not so discreet eyerolls, and the constant dismissive disinterest._

_When the first one came, he shrugged it off, it wasn’t a big deal. They had been in bed, having just finished their nightly routine. Keith rolled into Lance letting the tips of his fingers glide down the long expanse of his lean bare torso, trailing the hair low on his belly._

_Lance stops him with a hand around his wrist just as his fingers curled into the waistband of his underwear._

_“Can we not tonight?” He says through a yawn, “I’m just super sleepy, babe.”_

_“Yeah of course.” No disappointment evident in his voice, because there was none. Not really. So instead he wraps his arm around Lance’s waist and snuggled in for the night._

_There were a couple of instances like that. Easily forgotten. It was the one laced with subtle annoyance that really shook Keith’s confidence. He tried to not let it eat away at his insecurity, but it was the first time it seem like it was him, that Lance was indifferent too._

_It had been weeks and the absence of intimacy, of touch, of Lance, left him needy and frustrated. Which is why he met his unsuspecting boyfriend at the door when he got home, wearing a collar and a plug._

_A look of irritation flickered across the other man’s face and then vanished as if it were never really there. Keith caught the quick roll of eyes as Lance turned to shut the door and the quiet sigh as he pull his tie loose from around his neck. When he turned back around he wore a wicked grin but even that didn’t reach his eyes._

_That was the last time they had sex. It was great as far as good sex goes, but it left Keith feeling hollow, and quite frankly a little cheap._

_It wasn’t for a lack of want or trying on his part that they hadn’t had been intimate, but he was too gun shy to try something so bold again, and Lance never even once tried to initiate anything._

_It was a constant topic of their fights. For awhile at least, until they stopped talking. Eventually the arguments stopped. What was the point? They only served to further piss Keith off and exacerbate Lance’s stress. Created a riff between them: one filled with silence._

_That’s how it had been for the last three weeks and Keith was over it. He was sick of missing his boyfriend, tired of the apologies, fed up with being alone, and done with having to jerk off in the shower._

_Keith huffs and stands collecting the take out containers on the table, and tossing them all in the trash. No more meals alone. He can’t do this anymore; he's too tired, a different kind of exhaustion. He grabs his phone, wallet, keys and jacket. He’ll send Shiro back for the rest. He takes a deep breath as he looks around the apartment he and Lance share for the last time. He doesn’t release it until the door is shut behind him._

***

They stand locked in this heated stare, somewhere in between the earth and the sky. This fragile moment where nothing exists but the two of them, the stars and the pulse of his heart speeding a staccato rhythm.

It’s broken when Lance raises his hand to brush Keith’s hair out of his face, tucking it gently behind his ear, his fingers falling to cup his jaw, and Keith leans into his touch. It's so warm against his face. Blue eyes search for something deep within his own. He’s not sure what Lance finds there, but whatever it is, it causes him to smile. 

It’s genuine and bright and seeing it breaks his heart.

“God, I’ve fucking missed you.” Keith lets out a short breathy laugh at the other's words. Funny, that’s exactly what he’d been thinking. He licks his lips and the movement catches Lance’s eyes, lidded, as his thumb follows the shine left behind from the wetness. The soft pressure forces them apart and his breath hitches as Keith’s tongue brushes against the soft pad pressed to his plump lip.

The distance between them closes as their lips collide. It’s not this first time they’ve kissed tonight, but the drug in their systems has had time to run its course, and the haze of artificial lust and euphoria has been replaced with something more sincere, but no less desperate.

Their lips move together eagerly as they pull closer to each other. Lance holds him tight, fists twisting into the back of his shirt, as he steals Keith’s breath. His lips are smooth against his own and he tastes like gin and something sugary sweet, but also something solely himself. 

And when Keith breaks the kiss breathing heavy and heart racing, Lance traces his lips along his jaw and neck. It sends a shiver down his spine, it fizzles like static, running through like a live wire. He feels an anxiety he’s been holding on to start to melt away, but there is still some perplexing feeling lingering. One that he hasn’t felt in many years. 

Infatuation.

This night, very reminiscent of old love, is also something new. 

He’s driven by a different a kind of nervousness. Lance has been a stranger for months and so being here in his arms, while so wholly familiar, seems significantly foreign. It leaves him feeling slightly timorous.

It’s something Lance must sense too because he pauses to take in the other’s face, before pressing their foreheads together, noses bumping.

“Keith I want… c-can I.” They had long since been past asking permission, the fact that he felt he had to was a testament to how steep a precipice they were on.

But Keith wants to fall.

“Just touch me, Lance.” It comes out in a rush of warm air against Lance’s mouth, and that’s the only warning he gets before Keith is diving in to crash their lips together again, hands coming up to tangle in his soft hair, pressing himself against his boyfriend in needy desperation.

It takes the blue eyed male by surprise and he hisses at a particular harsh nip to his lower lip. Keith freezes as he becomes self aware to his actions, ones he promised himself he would stop, waiting for the brushoff he’s come to expect.

It doesn’t happen. 

Instead Lance bites him back, and when Keith gasps out, he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into his warm wet mouth, eating the moan from Keith’s pretty throat as he grinds their hips together.

His hands fall to Keith’s ass, digging into the firm flesh, using his grip to hold him in place, as they press harder into one another. He can feel the outline of Keith’s cock, against his tight jeans, with each rolling movement. It causes a wave of lust to rush through him, and he can’t remember why he ever tried to distance himself from this. There was a time when he consumed Lance’s every thought like nothing else.

Then it really hits him, what this whole night is, what it is he’s trying to accomplish. He pulls slightly away and Keith stills in his arms, an uncertain look in his eyes. It instantly fills him with regret, those eyes like the glowing midnight sky, cast down in hesitation. He promises to whatever gods that will keep Keith here, that he’ll never do anything to make him feel like he needs to walk away ever again. He is delirious for this boy, always has been.

“I love you so fucking much.” Keith’s eyes snap up at admission, locking with Lance’s searching for any insincerity. When he finds none, he huffs and rolls his eyes, but his lip curls up into a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” he’s says stepping in to push Lance back against the stone wall trapping him there, “prove it loverboy.”

He takes over where they left off, snatching Lance’s shirt from where it’s tucked into his pants and sliding his hands up under, and smoothing over the golden brown skin of his broad chest, forcing the material up and over the other man head before tossing it aside. 

As his mouth finds purchase at the dip of Lance’s shoulder, he shudders a mixture from the chill of the night air on his exposed skin and the graze of Keith’s teeth along his jugular. With a low moan, he tilts his head back to allow better access for Keith to nip and worry the sensitive flesh.

Hands dig at the hard lines of his hips trailing up his sides and down his chest, leaving fire in their wake. When gentle fingers trace and tease the taut plain of his abdomen, the muscles there flutter involuntary, making him tremble with anticipation. He doesn’t have to wait long because Keith’s patience is all used up. 

He’s tired of waiting and so without any preamble he tugs on the button of lance’s jeans and yanks the zipper down, wastes no time reaching deft hands into his boxers, and pulling him out. He is already painfully hard and Lance has to bite down on his lip to keep his low whine at bay. Keith brings one hand to his mouth and licks his palm, coating it in a thick sheen of saliva, eyes never leaving Lance’s face. 

He shudders and feels himself flush under the weight of that stare. And when Keith’s hand wraps that around the base of his cock, and slides up slowly over him he can’t control the drawn out moan that escapes his throat, nor can he resist the urge to fuck into that tight slick fist.

Lance is heavy in Keith’s hand and already he’s leaking thick beads of precum onto his fingers, making each stroke smooth like silk, it won’t take too much to push him over the edge. He ruts against Lance’s thigh, trying to relive some of his own tension, as he flick his wrist at a faster pace. It cause the others man's hips to falter, letting Keith have complete control.

His heart is racing and his breath is coming heavy, he's so lost to the sensations, Keith’s mouth on his throat, and hand on his cock. He can feel the pleasure pooling low in his stomach and he is so close, so close, that he almost can’t stop. Because why stop it? But then he does, grabbing Keith’s arm and pulling his hand off of him. Effectively edging himself.

“What are you-?”

“Not like this,” he pants out, trying to catch his breath, his whole body screaming at him in frustration, “I wanna be,” deep breath, “inside,” another breath, “when I go.” 

“Uh, Lance have you forgotten where we are?” It’s not an unreasonable question considering. 

“What do you mean?” He pants, still wound up from the excess of pleasure build up.

“We don’t really have ‘anything’ to do that.” His words come across skeptical because he’s not sure of his boyfriends state of mind right now, and he must be delusional if he thinks he’s they are doing anything dry.

Lance doesn’t respond though just fumbles around in his jeans digging into his pocket.

Keith barks out a quick laugh at the tiny item thrust into the space between them, of course Lance has a packet of lube in his wallet. “It’s nice to see some things never change.”

“I was a Boy Scout, Keith,” he says tearing the pack open with his teeth, “being prepared is kinda our thing.”

Keith just snorts and turns his back on Lance. Hips swaying as he walks to the edge of the roof, pulling off his shirt as he goes. He turns back around, hand pulling his belt loose.

“Coming?” His eyebrow raised expectantly.

Lance shuffling his way over pants, below his ass, dick half hard and lube hanging out of his mouth is anything but sexy, but the hungry look in his blue eyes, leaves Keith with a wave of warmth radiating through him, and his heart rate speeding. His stomach flips with excitement. 

When Lance reaches him, he wastes no time spinning Keith around and pressing him into the ledge of the building. Hands going to his hips, pulling his pants and underwear down in one swift motion.

The cool air on his overheated skin causes him to shiver as he arches his back, sticking his ass out teasingly. He watches over his shoulder, as long fingers are coated in slick gel, biting his lip in anticipation. 

He exhales a shaky sigh as nimble fingers tease his rim, slow circles painting him in slick gel. The first one sliding in pulls a low whine from him. It isn’t long before it’s joined by a second and then a third. The need for more has him rocking back on Lance’s fingers as they curl inside him. Stretching him.

The ragged moan he lets out when those fingers drag along a particularly sensitive area goes straight to Lance’s dick. 

“I’ve missed how needy you get,” he teases. His fingers massaging Keith into a whimpering mess.

“J-just shut up and fuck me already.” He’d meant for it to sound heated but it’s hard to sound threatening when you’re begging for cock.

Lance doesn’t need to be told twice; he removes his fingers. One steadying hand is on Keith’s back and the other lines himself up. Then he’s pressing in, sinking slowly into the hot heat. It pulls a long moan from each of them.

But the whine Lance makes as he bottoms out is obscene, he has to stop, pausing to calm his breath. Head pressed between Keith’s shoulder blades, he wills himself not to blow his load too soon. It’s been so long and Keith is so warm, and so tight, and, “Fuck... you feel so good.” It’s said through gritted teeth.

For Keith the stretch burns, but deliciously so. Come tomorrow he may not feel the same way, but right now the heady mix of pleasure and pain is all he can focus on and he needs more. He doesn’t wait for Lance, he just rolls his hips.

A hiss rips from Lance’s lips as Keith drags himself forward on his cock, before rocking back down. Fingers dig into the fat of his hips, hard enough that he’s sure it will leave bruises. 

Again, tomorrow’s problem. 

Keith’s body grips him tightly as he fucks into him. The drag is maddening and he keeps a steady pace. It’s not long before needy moans, dissolve into broken gasps for air.

Keith's hands hold tight to the metal rail of the ledge. The only thing between him and certain death. It’s the cold metal that anchors him, as Lance pulls him back to meet each one of his hard thrusts, the slap of skin loud in the silent night.

Heat coils low in Lance’s stomach and he knows he won’t last much long. He changes his angle, making sure to rub over that sensitive spot with each slide in. It has Keith going week in the knees. And when Lance wraps a hand around his neglected cock, stroking him in time with his rolling hips, he’s done for. His head snaps back, body arching, as liquid fire burns through his veins.

“Ah… fuck… L-Lance… I-“ his words turn into long drawn out moan, riding the intense pleasure as he releases, come running down Lance’s fingers and smattering on his belly, making a mess of them both.

Lance is quick to follow, the muscles clenching around him, sucking him backing each time he pulls out, his fucking turns furious, burying himself deep inside with each jerky thrust; until his hips falter and he bottoms out for the last time. Keith’s name falls from his lips like a mantra, and his vision whites out. His forehead presses into Keith’s back, filling him, thick come spilling over, and trailing down those pretty thighs.

They stay like this for several minutes riding out the high and catching their breath as they slowly come down. Finally, Lance pulls out. Looking around for something to clean them off with. Keith’s shirt is the closest thing and becomes a causality for the cause as Lance wipes his hands on it.

“You owe me a new shirt,” he gripes snatching the shirt from Lance when it's offered, and cleaning himself up. No longer having a use for it, he balls it up and tosses it over the rail.

“I pretty sure that constitutes as littering,” Lance chides as he tucks himself back into his jeans.

Keith follows suit sliding his pants up over his hips with a little hop, shaking everything into place, “You gonna tell on me, Boy Scout?” He says with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, it’s mostly organic,” he shrugs, buttoning his fly. 

Lance snorts at Keith’s horrible joke, pulling him in for a quick kiss. He feels so much lighter than he has in months. 

“Well what do we do now?” Keith asks as he slips his jacket on now that he no longer has a shirt to protect him from the night air. “It’s not like we can really go anywhere.”

“We stargaze, like we used to,” he says in reply, spreading his own jacket out in the cement, before sinking unceremoniously onto it. When Keith doesn’t move, Lance reaches out, making grabby hands at him. “Keiiith, come sit with me.”

Keith just huffs at Lance’s childish whines, hiding a smile. It fills him with this warm feeling, that radiates through him, seeing the old Lance re-emerging. It leaves him feeling hopeful. And when he’s close enough, he allows himself to be tugged down. 

He falls gracelessly, landing halfway into Lance's lap. “Oh my god, why is your ass so fat?” Another whine as Lance tries to playfully push Keith off him.

Wide eyed and offended, Keith bounces himself further into Lance, pushing back and wiggling is ass down hard. A move he instantly regrets but pushes through the pain, to save face. “You weren’t complaining earlier, asshole.”

After a few minutes of struggling and wrestling, Keith finds himself flat on his back and out of breath, hands pinned to his side with Lance hovering over him, peppering kisses across his face. “Give up yet?” Keith tries to free his hand, but Lance’s grip is just too tight. 

He blows out air in an effort to move his hair out of his eyes; when that doesn’t work, he shakes his head which only sends more hair fluttering across his face. Taking pity on him Lance, reaches up to brush it away. 

That was a mistake. 

Keith uses the opportunity knock Lance off balance, rolling them both until their roles switch and it's Lance that’s pinned. “Do _you _give up yet?” He mimics with a smirk.__

__They carry on like that until they are both worn out and out of breath. Laying side by side, their cheats heave and they stare up at the stars above._ _

__They lay like that for a discernible amount of time, watching the night sky fade from star lit midnight, to grey, to hues of oranges and pinks as the day breaks. They make comments here and there, but mostly they enjoy the silence, content in each other’s presence._ _

__It isn’t until a loud buzzing sound followed by a series of clicks, alerts them to their release from their temporary confinement, that the mood changes. Lance’s night is up and it’s time to go._ _

__“I’m starving,” Keith says jumping up and dusting himself off. He offers a hand to Lance, pulling him up, before making his way to the door. Lance grabs his jacket and jogs after him, as they navigate their way out._ _

__Up until now, nothing has been said about Keith's decision to leave; part of Lance doesn’t want to bring it up, in hopes that maybe his other half has forgotten, and so he doesn’t ask, too afraid of the answer he might hear._ _

__Instead, he grabs Keith’s wrist stopping him, before they make it to the lobby, which by this time should be starting to fill up. As Keith turns, he’s met with a wall of Lance’s hard chest, and pulled into a bone crushing hug._ _

__“I love you so much.” The words are muffled where Lance’s face is pressed into his neck. He instantly melts into the hug as his arms come up around the warm body latched on to him._ _

__“Mr. McClain!”_ _

__The startling shout rips them from their quiet moment, causing them to jump apart. Keith watches as Lance’s demeanor changes the instant his eyes lock into the interruption in question: a severe looking man in an expensive suit._ _

__“Mr. Iverson, good morning.” He tries for pleasant but it just sounds weak. Keith hates it, hates the way the color drains from Lance’s face, hates how that easy going smile is replaced by something more hesitant. He hates how Lance’s shoulders fall and the look of exhaustion returns. Keith hates this man… this Iverson._ _

__“Lance, what exactly are you doing here?” He looks dubiously between the two. It’s pretty clear what they were doing, their appearance is less than subtle as to what they’ve been up to.  
Keith is missing a shirt, and Lance well he… “You look like shit and we have a board meeting,” Iverson pauses looking at his watch, “in forty five minutes.”_ _

__“Uh yeah, about that,” Lance says tentatively, one hand going to the back of his neck, “I… uh,” he looks around, words starting to fail him, until his eyes lock on Keith._ _

__Keith with his arms crossed staring daggers at his boss, jaw clenched, seething, in thinly controlled rage. It makes him bark out a laugh. Loud and sharp, and brings him to himself._ _

__“Something funny, Mr. McClain?”_ _

__“Yes Sir, my boyfriend is getting hangry,” he says, pulling Keith’s arm way from his chest and locking their fingers together. “I need to get him some breakfast so… uh fuck your meeting.”_ _

__“And please take this as my formal resignation,” he announces flipping his boss the finger._ _

__The man sputters with indignation but Lance is already leaving pulling Keith with him._ _

__“Holy shit, I can’t believe I just did that!” Lance snickers once they are out of ear shot._ _

__“Yeah me either.” Keith can’t keep the amazement out of his voice or off of his face as he grins at Lance._ _

__It’s the perfect ending to a perfect night._ _

__“Oh um… you might need to pay for breakfast.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> I can be found on twitter and tumblr @peekaboodesu
> 
>  
> 
> The lovely @m-illustr created gorgeous art for this fic find it here:  
> https://peekaboo-desu.tumblr.com/post/184447180985/give-me-tonight-a-voltron-one-shot-work-sucks
> 
> I would direct link but ao3 hates me:(


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